Between the Shadows
by Ardvari
Summary: Something was wrong with her. She could feel it deep within her body, a new energy currency that pulsed through her veins.
1. Into the Night

**A/N:** This is the first chapter of eight that I will deal out over the course of the next month. It was crazy idea that I had while talking to Eliza, so I'm going to credit this to her. ;)

**Between the Shadows**

_Into the night_

Something was wrong with her. She could feel it deep within her body, a new energy currency that pulsed through her veins. It felt good and strange at the same time and as she stood beneath the warm spray of the shower, she closed her eyes and tried to listen to her body. Tried to figure out what it was that made her feel so alive, so good and so much like a stranger in her own head.

A soapy hand ran down her arm, back up and lingered over her left breast. Taking a shuddering breath, she felt for the familiar pulsing of her heart. There was silence, a silence lodged deep within her body, telling her that in a perfect world, she would be in the morgue. No logic, no science could explain why she was standing in the shower, washing away the dirt and the grime of a crime scene while her heart had ceased to beat.

The crime scene, dark and shadowy out in the desert between shrubs and dunes, something had grabbed hold of her, had pulled her down into the dust and she had blacked out too fast to realize what the hell had struck her.

Luckily she had woken up before anybody missed her, before anybody could comment on the fact that she seemed disoriented. Nobody knew that anything had happened to her at all.

She turned off the faucet, rested her head against the cold tiles for a moment before she stepped out of the shower and wrapped herself in one of those wonderfully soft terry towels.

Her skin reacted immediately, tingling wherever the towel touched her. The mirror over the sink revealed a misty reflection of her and as she wiped away the steam, she gasped.

Her skin was paler than usual, like marble. She ran a finger over her cheekbones, so much more pronounced than before. _Before what_? Her body was changing and she was trying to wrap her mind around that fact.

Ignorance seemed like a good way to go, if she ignored the changes, the missing rhythm of her heart, if she just went to sleep, maybe she would wake up and everything would be okay.

She rubbed her skin dry, amazed by how cold it felt and, without bothering to slip into her pajamas, snuck into bed.

Grissom was on his side, turned towards her as she crawled closer to him, pressed up against his warm body and draped an arm around him beneath his shirt.

"Honey, you're freezing." he whispered, drawing her even closer. He didn't notice the changes in her body with the lights off. His hands traveled over plains of cool skin, trying to warm her up.

"I can't get warm." she replied, her eyes heavy lidded. The sun was just coming up, throwing a ray of light against the wall. It seemed unnaturally bright to her, the way it struck the edge of the wing of a glass-cased monarch butterfly. She blacked out again, resting against his chest, before any coherent thoughts manifested themselves in her head.

The sun was setting when she awoke, feeling numb and empty. Grissom sat in the armchair by the window, watching her.

"Something's wrong with you." he stated, rubbing a hand along his jaw line. She sat up with a newfound grace, stretched her arms and felt the unknown energy course through her again. Then there was another feeling, a hunger for something she could smell and taste on her tongue, a hunger for something she couldn't quite grasp.

"I want you." Her voice sounded husky, coated in dark chocolate and he got up as if she was pulling him by strings. Sitting down beside her, he ran a hand down her arm.

"So cold Sara. You're so cold." His lips landed on her shoulder, kissed their way to her collarbone and finally found her mouth. A jolt went through him when he realized that even her mouth was cold, as if she had eaten ice cream.

He wanted to know what was wrong with her, wanted to take her to a doctor to get checked out because the way her eyes locked with his scared him. The way her eyes seemed darker, with a violet tint close to the pupil scared him.

Her tongue tangled with his and he lost track of his thoughts, cupped her head and held her close. He was determined to warm her up.

TBC


	2. El que no es humano

**_A/N: _**Here is the second part of the almighty weirdness. I actually am totally in love with this particular part. Thank you to all the people that have been reviewing. It means a lot to me.

_El que no es humano_

"_Disasters large and small, my friend, a life line that goes on as long as any, stars of strength, and a brood of offspring."_

"_Stop it, I don't accept it. The hand's not mine."_

- Anne Rice, _Merrick_

Her lips sought his, traveled along his jaw line, her tongue teasing his skin. She felt like ice cubes and tasted sweet, oh so sweet. He couldn't quite put his finger on what exactly she tasted like but it was delicious and intoxicating. It made his head swim and he groaned when her lips landed on the pulse point of his neck, sucking the skin between her teeth.

She could feel the blood pulsing beneath his skin, her senses heightened to what gave him life. Something wasn't right; she could feel something waking up deep within her, hungry and alert.

"I need you. Don't be scared. I need you so much…" she whispered against his neck and he nodded, unsure of what exactly he was supposed to be scared of. He wasn't scared of her, had never been scared of her.

Slowly she licked along his vein, tasting the saltiness of his skin. Then she licked down to where his neck met his shoulder, feeling for his pulse there with her lips. She found it, let it pulse against her hungry mouth for a moment before she parted her lips, flicked her tongue against it and finally, carefully, sank her teeth into his skin.

His hands flew to her shoulders, he groaned again and wasn't sure what exactly was happening. She was sucking on his neck and it wasn't right but it felt so good, like fire racing through his veins, like tiny red devils chasing his blood to her mouth. It felt good as her mouth grew hot with his blood, as his arms grew limp and fell from her shoulders.

Finally she pulled away, fear in her eyes as she wiped her mouth. His eyes fluttered open, he grabbed her arm and pulled her mouth to his, tasting his blood on her lips. His brain tried to catch up to his actions, why the heck did he want to kiss her so badly? There was no reason, only need as his tongue wiped the blood off of her bottom lip.

"I'm not human." she whispered into his mouth, trembling slightly as his arms encircled her and she pressed two fingers to the wounds in his neck before the blood could stain his shirt. Somehow she knew that she could heal him, knew it as much as she had known that she needed to drink his blood.

Of course it was wrong, he was supposed to be scared of her, she had just sucked his blood and her cheeks were red and her lips were full. He was scared _for_ her. There were tears stinging her eyes, she could feel the red veil clouding her vision.

"Sweetheart you're crying blood." His finger traced the tear that fell down her cheek; he caught it and held it on the tip of his finger for her to see.

She sobbed loudly, letting the tears fall freely now. They fell onto her white skin, onto the comforter, onto his hand as he held it out to catch them like precious gems.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I don't know what happened. My heart Grissom, my heart's not beating." She pressed his hand to her naked chest, watched as his eyes grew wide in horror.

He pulled her closer, hugged her tightly as if he feared she was going to vanish. She didn't have a pulse, her heart wasn't beating and yet she wasn't dead. She was very much alive. Undead.

Carefully he let his hands travel over her body, felt the changes, the cool, hardened skin, the refined bone structure. She felt like stone and silk and she was as cold as ice. Determined, he grasped her hand, pulled her into the bathroom and held her hand as he switched on the bright ceiling light.

She hissed, turned away from the glare and hid her face in her hands.

"Turn it off. Please god, turn it off!" she yelled, trying to get away from him and the light.

"Stand still, I need to look at you!" He pulled her back roughly, grabbed her by her wrists and studied her while she writhed uncomfortably.

"It hurts!" she wailed, causing him to snort.

"I need to find out what's wrong with you. Stop moving."

Finally he had taken her all in, studied her from head to toe. He had catalogued all the changes in her and had memorized them. Her skin was white, almost fluorescent and her hair seemed darker, as if it had lost all its natural highlights. All her freckles were gone, as if they had been erased. She seemed skinnier; her entire body seemed refined, as if someone had filed away everything that was deemed unnecessary. She was gorgeous and he hated himself for thinking that.

After flipping off the lights, he felt for the pulse at her wrists, hoping that he had just been too dazed to feel it earlier and sighed loudly.

"Honey you're undead." The scientist in him couldn't believe he had just said that.

He let go of her hands and she slowly opened her eyes, scared to look into his for fear of what she might see there. She could deal with being undead. She couldn't deal with being resented by him.

"What are we going to do?" she asked quietly, wrapping her arms around herself.

TBC


	3. Dark Chest of Wonders

A/N: This one's for you Eri. Thanks for rescuing me once again and not freaking out when I had blood all over my face. Also, thanks for catching the horses.

_Dark chest of wonders_

He motioned for her to follow him back into the bedroom and pulled the curtains shut so no traces of the remaining daylight could hurt her. Walked over to the bed, she curled up close to the headboard and drew her knees up to her chest while he stood by the window, contemplating her.

"I don't know. I don't know what we're going to do. I don't think I can lose you over this though. We'll figure it out. I won't let you down."

She breathed a sigh of relief, still trembling. There were so many questions in her head, so many things to figure out.

"What about the blood?" she wondered aloud, trying to picture herself killing somebody in order to stay alive, trying to picture herself sneaking up on someone, digging her teeth into a stranger's neck, sucking a stranger's blood. The thought made her head swim.

"I'm here, aren't I? You'll take what you need from me." he said firmly, finding it strangely exciting when he thought about the fact that his blood was coursing through her veins, keeping her with him.

She stared at him for a moment, before a small, almost eerie smile crept onto her lips. Slowly she got up, walked over to him and draped her arms around his neck, quickly brushing her fingers along the two puncture wounds she had left him with. They had stopped bleeding under her touch but two tiny scars lingered on his skin.

The fact that she wasn't human, that her touch was so cold and yet so loving drove him insane. He wanted her, wanted to make love to her, fuck her brains out really, to find out what this new Sara was all about.

His lips found hers; he sucked her bottom lip into his mouth and nibbled on it. They stood close to the window for a while, just kissing and trying to figure out what the hell they were going to do.

"Does it feel… different?" he finally asked softly.

Sara stepped out of his arms, looking around the room. Then she closed her eyes, focusing on the sounds around her.

"I can see things clearer. It's as if everything is sharper, more in focus. I can hear your blood flowing. Your neighbors are fighting, I can hear them, too." she explained hurriedly and reached out, running a finger down his arm.

"You feel different. Your skin's like fire, it feels good. Like… it's hard to explain. You feel so alive; it's as if I can feel every single cell in your body working to make you what you are. It's… weird."

She looked at him, shrugged her shoulders and smiled. It was hard to explain what exactly she felt, heard and saw. Her hearing had probably improved the most; she could hear so many things at once. Blood rushing through veins, a moth's wings fluttering against the window downstairs, people talking in their cars as they rushed by down on the street. Somewhere, there was a child crying.

Grissom smiled at her as her eyes skated across the room, as her brain tried to take all of the new information in at once.

They sat in the kitchen much later, talking softly while Grissom nursed a cup of strong coffee. Until they had figured things out, Sara would take an indefinite leave of absence, vanish for a while. He would deal with the questions she left behind, would give half-assed answers and explanations as to why she had left without saying good-bye, without a word to anyone.

He had scars to prove she wasn't dead, scars he kept hidden beneath the collar of his shirt. It surprised him that his and Sara's relationship had barely changed. Maybe it was more exciting, more thrilling to come home and find her sprawled out on the couch, ready to sink her teeth onto his neck. Maybe he found it amazing that he was the one giving her life.

They explored each other's bodies constantly. He loved the feel of her stone cold skin underneath his warm body. He liked it when she teased him, kissing and licking and nibbling his neck so he could never be sure when she would bite down and suck.

It was a game, really. Predator and prey and he found that when he was buried deep inside of her and she bit him, it was the most blissful feeling he'd ever had.

Sometimes he sat in his office, sorting through paperwork when reality hit him in the head. He was sleeping with a vampire, she was sucking his blood and while he wasn't ready to accept that fact, he knew that over time, she would weaken him. He knew that she would kill him without ever wanting to. And he knew that he would let her if it meant that she would survive.

But he had promised not to let her down and so he went home, dropped his briefcase, slipped out of his shoes and into her waiting arms, letting the darkness that engulfed her settle over him.

TBC


	4. Rootless Tree

**A/N:** Introducing... the villain. Falling on my head seems to have inspired the muse. Great, my muse bathes in the glare of my pain. What does that say about me? Don't answer that...

_Rootless Tree_

When she wandered the Strip at night, the neon lights painting her skin like a blank canvas, memories came back to her. Vague and blurry, like a bad dream, she remembered a deep voice, remembered cold fingers on her neck.

She remembered soft curls brushing against her face, a sharp pain at her neck, the deep swallows of the being behind her.

The sand she had clawed at, desperately trying to get away. Darkness had settled over her, each deep swallow of the one holding her against his chest brought on a shallow breath from her.

The lights illuminating the crime scene had seemed so close and with each shallow breath they faded, got dimmer. Fear had settled deep within her, fear and longing. She remembered feeling incredibly sad.

The desert hard underneath her body, her eyes half closed she had looked up into a pale face. Cold, hard eyes with a glimmer of mischief. The color of the ocean on a stormy day.

She passed by all of those tourists on the Strip, haunted by her memories as their blood hammered in her ears and she remembered the taste of _his_ blood. The first drop of blood she had ever tasted, stronger than human blood, she knew that now. Pure electricity, fire, pain, lust, want, need. So many things.

Shuddering slightly, she continued walking, trying to block out all the noises in her head. She needed to learn how to focus; she needed to remember his face. _His_ face.

He had been kneeling over her, had touched her cheek with an icy cold hand, had wiped a strand of hair out of her face. She couldn't remember what he had said to her but she remembered a voice, dark and melodious, cunning and alluring. Like a web, one she had to avoid getting caught in.

A cool wind blew across the Strip, a side door opened, spilling a group of people out onto the streets. Shreds of their conversation almost drowned out the sound of their blood in her ears. Almost…

Why her? Why in good hell had he taken _her_? Chance or coincidence? She shook her head, trying hard not to get angry. It was too late to get angry. She hated the fact that she could remember the feel of his teeth against her skin.

Slowly, she walked back towards the townhouse. The sun would rise in a couple of hours and she needed to feed. Her hunger for blood was strong, impossible to ignore. It drove her home; she could almost taste Grissom's blood flowing into her mouth. She loved swirling her tongue through a mouthful of warm blood. _So good…_

Her feet carried her along the sidewalk quickly; she kept her eyes on the ground, trying to remember more. Of course he had said something, she could remember his voice. He had to have said something.

She stopped at the top of the stairs, turned around and looked out towards the lights of the Strip. The cool breeze caught her hair, whipped it around her face and she sighed deeply.

"_Damien…" _Her hand flew to her mouth as if she wanted to catch the word before it could escape, float away on the wind. His name, at least she had his name. Along with the feel of his hair on her face, his teeth on her neck. She shivered again.

All she wanted was Grissom, needed his touch, his arms around her and his blood in her ears, her mouth, her heart.

TBC


	5. Monogamy

**A/N: **I apologize that this took me so long. I was out of town for a while and didn't really get any work done on it. I also have a Portfolio full of original fiction to hand in by the end of the month so that's been a bit of a hassle. However, I promise the next chapter will be up before the finale of doom next thursday. ;)

_Monogamy_

The strange vampire, the one who had made her what she was, haunted her thoughts. She wanted to know why he had turned her into a vampire, why he had left her without an explanation, without a reason as to why she was a stone cold bloodsucker now. She could feel his lips on her neck in moments when she almost forgot what she was. It was maddening and she felt as if she was slowly losing control.

Sara refused to drink blood from anybody but Grissom. There really was no need to even think about taking blood from anybody else because he was so willing to give his. It was taking a toll on him both mentally and physically, he was getting weaker, his movements weren't as precise as they should have been. She could tell that it got harder and harder for him to keep her transformation his guilty little secret.

The scientist in him wanted to study her like a specimen in a jar, wanted to find out what had happened to her and if it really was his blood that reddened her cheeks. He never said a word about it, but she could feel it as if it was her having those thoughts. It was scary to think about and yet she knew he would never harm her, never lay a hand on her because his love ran too deep. If he ever sliced her open he would cut himself as well.

When he was at work, she wandered the streets, her senses heightened, fearless that anything would happen to her. She was undead; she really didn't have anything to worry about. Maybe she was getting a bit too cocky, a bit too sure of herself.

Maybe the reason she couldn't feel the other vampire watching her, lingering in the shadows was because her thoughts were preoccupied with other things, less important things.

Grissom always made sure that he was home before the sun rose to still her hunger, spend a moment suspended in time with her before she fell into the comatose sleep that came over her during the day. It was as if she was truly dead and he pulled her close to him when he crawled into bed, holding her, praying that she would wake again at sunset. She always did. He realized that he was as dependant on her as she was on him.

He couldn't bear to think that he might lose her, that she was like a drug and he was starting to feel the negative effects.

In the sanctuary of his office behind the closed door he sat one night and decided not to go home. He imagined her pacing back and forth between kitchen and living room wringing her hands, waiting for him. His conscience screamed at him to go home to her, he had promised he wouldn't let her down and yet he wanted to know if she would come to him, he wanted to know just how badly she needed him. _The submissive is always in control_.

Sara paced and waited and threw concerned looks at the clock's hands moving closer to the hour when the sun would rise and possibly turn her into a pile of ashes. The hunger gnawed at her, she felt like an animal being starved in a cage. Impatience made her throw on a jacket and walk briskly over to the crime lab an hour before sunrise. He was cutting it close for her.

Stomping into the building, she peeked into the break room, finding Nick, Catherine and Warrick gathered around the table. She hadn't seen them in months and she didn't care, her brain wasn't focusing on keeping a low profile. Her brain was focusing on her hunger; she could hear their blood pulsing through their veins.

"Where's Grissom?" she demanded, her eyes nervously scanning the room. Her hands were shaking slightly and the fluorescent lights underlined just how pale she actually was.

"In his office. Hey Sara, we haven't seen you in ages! How _are_ you?" Nick asked, a concerned smile touching the corners of his mouth.

"I'm fine, I just need…" she trailed off, threw them a cautious look and walked towards Grissom's office.

"What the hell's wrong with her?" Warrick asked, taking a sip of his coffee. Catherine shrugged her shoulders. She had tried to talk to Grissom about Sara but he kept making phony excuses for her absence. Kept evading the subject with the pained expression he did so well.

Sara pulled open the door, making the blinds smash against the glass. She stood in the doorway for a moment, looking at the man seated behind the desk. He was looking at her intently, at the woman that seemed as if she was lighted from within, her skin was so pale. Closing the door quietly, she turned the key in the look and walked over to stand in front of his desk.

"I need you." she whispered quietly, urgently. He smiled softly, felt a pang of guilt at the exposed look on her face, the raw emotions in her eyes. She wasn't sure if he would let her drink, if he wasn't finally ready to turn his back on her.

"C'mere." He rolled the swivel chair backwards and held his hands out to her.

Slowly she walked over, studying his face as she straddled his legs and sat down facing him. She leaned closer, kissed his mouth until his lips parted under her ministrations and her tongue teased his. A sigh of relief escaped her and her hands locked around his neck.

"I'm sorry I didn't come home." He finally managed to say but she shook her head, running a cool hand over his cheek.

"You don't have to apologize for anything. I'm the one that should apologize." She smiled softly. Slowly he shook his head, his eyes never leaving hers. He had promised to be there and he hadn't been. It seemed to be a theme with him.

His hands found their way to her hips, holding her securely in his lap. They sat for a moment, looking at each other. He loved studying her face, getting lost in the swirl of colors in her eyes. They too had changed. There was a small rim of red that ran around the deep brown iris.

While kissing her again, he opened the first button of his shirt and pulled the collar to the side. She broke the kiss and looked at his skin, pierced by two tiny dots that wouldn't and couldn't heal because she broke them open every night. She could stop the bleeding but she wasn't strong enough to make the scars go away. Lightly she brushed a finger across them.

Then she kissed him again, as if to ask for permission that this was okay. He tilted his head to the side, leaned his head against the chair and followed her with his eyes as she leaned down to his neck and dug her teeth into his skin.

He winced, sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, running a hand through her hair. It was softer than it used to be, silkier.

She greedily swallowed his blood, enjoying the feel of the thick warmth in her mouth. It tasted so good; as good as anything she had ever tasted and would never taste again. Finally she stopped drinking, looked up at him and sighed.

"I'm a sucker for your blood." she said, licking her lips. He smiled and brushed his lips against hers before capturing her mouth. He loved kissing her after she finished drinking, loved the taste of his own blood in her mouth. It really was strange how much he had come to like the taste, the feel of her mouth, bloody and cool.

"I'll take you home. The sun's coming up in half an hour." He patted her butt and pushed her off of him. She nodded, waited until he had grabbed his jacket and opened the door to step through in front of him.

She smiled briefly at Nick through the window as they passed by the break room. The others were getting worried, would soon start questioning why she was acting so strange, why they hadn't seen her in half a year when she had been in town the entire time.

Sara knew she should be worried about that. And yet she wasn't because she was twisting and changing and getting comfortable with what she was. There was no time to worry about them finding out. She wasn't sure she could handle thinking about it either.

TBC


End file.
